


Apocalypto

by Paranoxx



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Super
Genre: Accidental Plot, Aged-Up Character(s), Boys In Love, Consensual Kink, Coronapocalyse, Cute Kids, Developing Friendships, Drinking Games, Dumbasses, Epic Friendship, Extended Families, Fighting Kink, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Forced Cohabitation, Friends to Lovers, Fun, Homoromantic, Inappropriate Humor, It's 5:30 Somewhere, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Multi, No Incest, Out of Character, Pandemics, Saiyans Still Have Tails, Sex Is Fun, Shameless Smut, Slightly Altered Timeline, Slightly altered universe, Sorry Not Sorry, True Love, Unconventional Families, We're All Stuck In The House Until The End Of Time-So Why The Fuck Not, Weird Plot Shit, nothing creepy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29559735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoxx/pseuds/Paranoxx
Summary: The Fighters and their families come together to ride out the lockdown at the CC Compound together because it's better than being stuck at home alone and Bulma is rich enough to afford it, so why not. Vegeta mellows out (to everybody but Yamcha) and learns how to laugh, Goku mans up finally. Piccolo is still Piccolo but grows a sense of humour. Krillin finds out about fanfiction because during the coronapocalyse the internet is the one thing that still has a job. The ladies drink too much, because why not. There are kids running around, actually playing games that use more than just their thumbs. Two teenagers and we'll just leave that one alone.Stuck together for the foreseeable furture...as we all are. Please enjoy, I hope.
Relationships: Android 18/Krillin (Dragon Ball), Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Dr. Briefs/Panchy Briefs, Trunks Briefs/Son Goten, Videl Satan/Son Gohan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Setting the stage for the story to come, this is the exposition ex-machina. Don't worry, it's not overwhelming. To other Authors, I am only making fun of my own work here. Please take no offense, just laugh at me instead. And many thanks to Akira Toriyama, who is kind enough to let us play with his toys here.

Shortly after the worldwide lockdown took place, it was decided that everyone who would accept the invitation would hold up at the Capsule Corp Compound for the duration. It made sense to most of them in several ways. Stories of people losing their minds from the isolation, wide spread increases in drug and alcohol addiction and the epidemic spread of laziness and weight gain...the list went on and on but it was the threat of no toilet paper that drove the lot to fill CC to overflowing. 

The grounds were vast enough for anyone to get away from the rest when they wanted peace and quiet, the stores of supplies squirreled away by the Briefs after the android arc for a just-in-case scenario provided everything they could need and whatever they wanted came by delivery whenever they wanted it. Unlimited wealth had it’s benefits. 

The children were privileged with some of the smartest people in the world as their surrogate teachers. Gohan, Dr. Briefs, ChiChi and Bulma being the primaries in charge of making sure the kids didn’t go the way of poor America and lose more than a year of proper education, only to end up with an entire generation of shiftless morons with no motivation  _ and _ a sense of entitlement. They also had each other, sparing them the slow slide into social awkwardness and habitual loneliness that so very many children were suffering due to social distancing.These kids would remember how to actually have a conversation and play outside.They had built in playmates of the highest caliber and a group of ever watchful adults to keep them from getting up to too much trouble, though Trunks and Goten showed a remarkable talent for sliding under the radar of even the most vigilant eyes.

The women of the group tended to band together for company while their respective mates diligently tried to beat the living hell out of each other during their daily training. To them it was almost like a very extended vacation. CC was maintenanced by an army of Bulma’s custom made bots that were programmed to provide the everyday services usually and unfortunately were left to the mothers to attend. 18 was especially thrilled with this set up as there were few things in life she hated more than dishes and laundry and the other repetitive, menial tasks of household boredom. She spent quite a bit of time with Bulma in her lab learning the skill of creating the low AI droids, intent of creating service bots of her own when (or if) the apocalypse ever ended. Even though ChiChi enjoyed the respite from minding a household all by herself quite a lot and it tended to mellow her acerbic personality to the point of near friendliness, she insisted all the cooking be done by hand. With Videl loyally by her side, ChiChi patiently (at least outwardly) set her mind to teaching the blond cyborg and the blue haired heiress to cook more than just Instant Lunch. Privately, Bulma was pretty certain that she could have lived the rest of her life eating little else but the look of disbelief on Vegeta’s face when she served her first full course meal of actually edible food convinced her that the endeavor was worth it. 

The men were similar in their flocking together due to mutual interest. Vegeta and Goku were usually to be found kicking the crap out of each other in their typical fashion. Gohan spent a great deal of time bringing himself back to his former prowess with Piccolo, determined not to let himself weaken ever again after the debacle with the tournament of power. Unfortunately, that left Krillin to the last of their group, Yamcha. Despite being the third most powerful human being on the planet, Yamcha was a very inconsistent partner. Some days the one known (behind his back; mostly) as the Beta Male was driven and on point, more days he was a shiftless mess of sloppy sweatpants and YouTube. 

It was on one of those days when Yamcha couldn’t be roused before noon and Krillin was left to his own devices that he came across something that would provide him with the greatest entertainment he’d found so far in the end of the world. Fan Fiction…

The entire group had gathered in the gardens for lunch on a particular Sunday. The women had put together an extensive spread and were happy to sit down and let the bots serve the many huge dishes with robotic precision. Feeding six Saiyans three meals a day was no small job even when ChiChi, Bulma, 18, Videl and Panchi worked together. The table nearly bowed under the weight of so much rice, bbq’d meats, noodle dishes, buns filled with various treats, dumplings, miso, bao and fruits. There was even an assortment of slightly flavoured waters for Piccolo. 

The sweaty warriors tucked into the fare as soon as the women, the children and the humans had taken what they wanted. They had developed the habit of waiting because once they were done the table would be lucky to still contain plates. 

“I found something that you guys might find interesting,” Krillin said from the end of the table where he sat next to his wife. Yamcha turned idly to look at the little monk, as did all the women. The Saiyans paid no attention to anything but demolishing the mountains of food piled in front of them. It was his next words that got their attention though.

“I was poking around the internet and I found a wonderful story about Goku and Vegeta. Apparently, you guys have some pretty  _ intense _ fans,” he continued, louder this time. 

From behind their impossible piles of lunch, two spiked black haired heads emerged, cheeks bulging. Beside his father, Gohan’s eyes went wide and he turned to fully face Krillin, urgently making a throat cutting gesture he really hoped the other two couldn’t see. He suspectly where Krillin was going with this and he didn’t want to have to try to finish his lunch in the crater Vegeta would turn the garden into if he was right. 

Krillin grinned at him, having no intention of keeping something he found so hilarious to himself. Videl glanced at her husband, cottoned on and slumped down in her chair next to 18 to kick Krillin in the shin as hard as she could. Bulma caught the movement and she too went stiff, “Oh no…”

Vegeta and Goku were oblivious to the side play, looking benignly at the shortest among them until Yamcha burst out laughing. They both turned to stare at him. Glanced at each other and then back at Krillin. Vegeta swallowed, scowled and pushed his plate away a little. 

“What the hell?” he demanded suspiciously. Rather than say anything, there were kids at the table after all, Krillin tossed his tablet at the two grown Saiyans. Goku caught it deftly, though Gohan made a desperate grab for the thing as it flew over his head and then again, until his father held it out of his reach. Vegeta snatched it. 

_ This is going to get bad!  _

Yamcha and Krillin watched the Prince with barely contained expectation. Bulma and Videl with undisguised horror. Everyone else just looked confused. Except for 18, who didn’t look at all. Gohan’s continued struggle to get around his dad and take the tablet made Vegeta throw his chair back and walk a short distance away, reading rapidly.

Goku, holding his oldest son’s wrists in one hand, watched his compatriots face change expression several times. The older Saiyans face went from annoyed curiosity to incredulity to something like the look men get when they know they have drunk way too much and are about to throw up last week's dinner in the space of two minutes. Gohan saw that it was too late and stopped squirming, “Dad, Vegeta try and understand that it’s just a hobby some people have. It’s not meant to be serious…” he tried but lost the will to speak at the glower Vegeta leveled on him.

Bulma stood up, nailed Krillin with a look that should have caused him to spontaneously combust where he sat grinning like an idiot and turned toward her mate, “Honey, try to stay calm-”

Vegeta snapped around to glare at his pretty wife with glittering onyx eyes. “You knew about this?” he growled, accusation plain in his deep voice. Bulma held both her hands up in a gesture of both defense and pleading, her red lips parted but no words coming out.

“What in the name of Kami is going on?” Piccolo yelled finally, “Somebody explain!”

Again Krillin and Yamcha dissolved into near tears, laughing that hard. When no one ventured an explanation he stood up and started towards Vegeta, pausing only to drag Goku out of his chair on the way. The three of them stood with their heads together over the tablet, reading. 

Bulma bent down to her mother, “Mom, get the kids out of here! Now!” she begged in a very un-Bulma-like fashion. When Panchi didn’t instantly move, Bulma yanked her up by the arm and shoved her towards where Pan, Marron, Goten and Trunks were sitting. Her mother moved quickly after that, scooping the two girls up and ordering the two teenage boys to follow her. Assuming that they would automatically comply, she made for the house. No one noticed at that moment that only Dr. Briefs followed her. They were all too busy wondering how far away they’d have to be to escape the fallout or laughing too hard to stand up.

When the three faces lifted again they were all strangely placid, considering what they had just read on the little device. Even Vegeta didn’t really look like he was about to blow a hole in the planet.

Instead, he handed the tablet to Goku, poked him in the ribs and smiled. Bulma actually looked down at the ground for a second to see if her bottom jaw was laying at her feet. Videl just let the hands that she had been holding over her mouth slip down to her chin. The Prince walked back to his seat, sat down and turned calm black eyes on his food.

Goku followed, as did Piccolo, just as calm and smiling. Trunks inexplicably started to laugh, joined by Goten at his side. Their fathers looked at the boys and in a moment they were all laughing. 

“You get to be the bottom this time,” Vegeta said to Goku. He reached down and smacked the tall Saiyan on the backside with a resounding crack, “Seriously sweet ass.”

Goku jumped a little at the impact but he didn’t stop laughing, the rich sound wrapping around the deafening silence from the other side of the table. “At least I’m not pregnant...yet,” he quipped and went back to his lunch.

“What the fuck?” was all Bulma could muster and even that was garbled. 

Piccolo picked up his pear water and thumped a choking Trunks on the back, reaching a long arm over to give the same treatment to Goten before the boy’s red face turned purple. He sipped the icy liquid, “I’m not even in this one.” There was a hint of lament in his bass voice, “I love finding out what kind of genitalia they think up for me.”

Videl made a shocked yipping sound, covering her eyes as though she were trying not to see that mental picture in real life. ChiChi, who had been silent up until that point, simply stared around without the slightest idea what she was witnessing. 18 remained as stoic as ever, though there was a tug at the corner of her mouth. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Bulma screamed. Goten and Trunks weren’t even making noise anymore, their arms around one another as they slowly died a tragic death from a lack of oxygen. 

Vegeta looked at his wife for a long moment and then very deliberately tilted his flame topped head to rest on Goku’s broad shoulder. Goku dropped his own head to the side to rest his cheek against the silken hair of the Prince, one hand coming up to cup Vegeta’s cheek in a familiar caress. 

“Gotcha!” they declared before falling together in helpless laughter.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An eventful lunch in the garden with some rather raunchy humour thrown in.

“ **WHAT THE EVERLASTING FUCK IS GOING ON?!?”** Bulma screamed again, slamming her hands down on the table. 18 reached up and tugged her back down into her chair, the strength of the cyborg insurmountable for the small, human woman. 

“Did you really think they didn’t know?” 18 asked when Bulma was level with her. The blonde just shook her head and went back to munching on the fruit she was so fond of, looking smug. “They’re the ones who told me about it.”

“I don’t understand…”ChiChi murmured, eyes on her daughter-in-law for answers. 

“Mom, you really don’t need to know…” Gohan muttered, his face a bright shade of pink from sitting so close to the two mature Saiyans who were still laughing at the whole ridiculous situation. 

“You  _ knew _ ?” Krillin cried, all the hilarity sucked out of his sails. 

“And you’re  _ okay _ with it?” Yamcha demanded, scepticism all over his face. 

Vegeta finally sat up straight, pushing against Goku’s rib cage to help him right himself. They settled down to the occasional snort of residual amusement, as did their young sons. 

“Of course we knew. What did you think, that we lived in a box somewhere the internet couldn’t get to us?” the dark Prince answered, slipping a spoonful of rice into his mouth. He frowned, it had gone cold. Vegeta held a bare hand over the mound of carbs and a soft glow emanated from it, heating the food back up to an acceptable temperature. Almost as shocking as his complete lack of anger at that moment was the fact that he very naturally moved his gracefully built hand to hover over Goku’s heap a moment later and did the same thing again.

“Who the hell told you?” Bulma wanted to know, realizing she probably hadn’t blinked in 10 minutes. 

“I did,” Trunks admitted simply, hiccuping. 

“They thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever read once we explained what it is,” Goten continued.

“It is the funniest thing,” Piccolo interjected, “If they actually tried to  _ do _ any of those things to each other they would probably crack this poor little planet right down the center. And some of the language the writers use is...well, if I could pee on myself from laughing so hard I would have.”

Bulma looked at ChiChi but there was nothing coming from that corner of confusion as the proper Japanese lady still didn't have any idea what they were talking about. Something about the conversation made her uneasy though and she was far too repressed to ask. 

Bulma glared at her lavender haired son hard enough to make him wrap his tail around his neck protectively. But her face softened with affection, Trunks, with his bright azure eyes and heartbreakingly pretty face was impossible to be mad at for long. 

“I ask again, AND YOU’RE  _ OKAY  _ WITH IT?” Yamcha interjected. This was the polar opposite of what he’d expected to happen.

“Why not?” Goku asked innocently around his last mouthful of lunch, “It doesn’t hurt us.”

Nobody said anything for a while. Krillin and Yamcha couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Bulma was trying to understand the situation, ChiChi didn’t think she wanted to know and 18 really didn’t care. Gohan and his wife were just relieved that the planet still had an atmosphere.

“For having been married to a Saiyan for more than 20 years, Bulma, you are remarkably stupid,” Piccolo commented, which earned him a halfway serious warning look from the Prince. He held up a large, green hand in a peaceful gesture. “You seem to forget sometimes, they aren’t  _ humans. _ ”

“Yeah, Mom,” Trunks piped in, the impish smirk he’d inherited from his father playing around the fullness of his lips as her apparent discomfiture, “We aren’t as naturally sexually repressed as you are.”

ChiChi made an odd noise at the words and jumped out of her chair. She stared at her youngest son, then at her husband. They both just smiled in warm amusement. Gohan on the other hand turned an even deeper shade of pink, his dark eyes fixed on his hands in his lap. “Nope!” ChiChi declared and took off towards the house at a run.

Goku sighed, but smiled, “Too much for her, I guess.”

He waited until his wife was out of ear-shot and picked up the tablet again from where it lay on the table. Scrolling as though it was something he did everyday the big Saiyan read on from where he’d left off before. 

Vegeta sat in full bellied contentment for a while, waiting for details, until he noticed his wife. Bulma was leaning forward on her arms and watching him as though she had never seen him before.

This impression was confirmed when he met her eyes and she shook her blue head at him, “Who are you?”she asked in a quiet, astonished voice.

Vegeta put both hands behind his head, interlocking his long fingers comfortably. He was enjoying her reaction. It wasn’t often anyone was able to get one over on the genius.

“Woman, after all the kinky, insane, probably illegal things we get up to in our bed chamber,  _ this _ shocks you?” he said, a note of fondness in the pet name by which he called her.

Bulma couldn’t believe the casual way the words came out of his finely shaped mouth. This was the man who until the lockdown on the world had refused to even touch her unless they were completely alone. Where was her uptight, stolid and perpetually harsh Prince? She considered that Goku may have finally hit him in the head hard enough to knock something loose, “I’m so confused.”

Vegeta ignored this. “Kakarot, what’s going on? Did I at least make an honest man out of you?”

Goku giggled the way he did when something amused him, still reading, “Nope. Seems all you want is to hold me down and make me scream your name while you pound-” he began only to be cut off by a strangled sound from Yamcha. They looked at the human, who had accidentally breathed a chunk of meat into his esophagus and was clutching his throat in the universal sign for ‘ **HELP ME** ’.

Piccolo hopped up into the air and landed with a muffled thump behind Yamcha a fourth of a second later. He wrapped a pair of multi coloured arms around the man and jerked his fists into his diaphragm hard, twice. The not quite chewed piece of pork flew out to land in the grass, leaving Yamcha limply hanging in Piccolo’s embrace. The Namekian turned the man around to peer into his mottled face, “You going to live?”

Yamcha heaved large breaths, still holding himself by the throat but looking grateful and nodded. Piccolo put him down, settling the baseball player back in his chair and dragging one of his own glasses of tinted water in front of him. “Drink that and try not to die,” he quipped, amused.

“Why are you all being so weird?” Goku inquired to the table in general, “They’re just stories.” Trunks and Goten started laughing again, softly this time. 

“ _ Because we all thought you would freak the fuck out if you ever read one of those smut pieces!” _ Krillin cried, hands up in the air theatrically waving. 

His 18 patted him on the crown of his smooth head patronizingly, “You’re just mad because nobody writes good ones about you, sweetheart, but you’re still a sex god in my books.” She leaned over and kissed him and the cheek near his ear.

There was a lot more laughter from the peanut gallery, the tension starting to drain away as the humour of the situation sunk into everyone who hadn’t gotten it at first. 

“What’s happened to you, Vegeta?” Bulma questioned seriously.

The Prince smiled at his wife but Trunks beat him to an explanation,“He got tired of the stick in his ass.” Goten hooked an arm around his friend's neck, giggling that Trunks would dare to say such a thing even with Vegeta in such an uncharacteristically good mood.

When the Saiyan didn’t throw anything at them Goten mustered himself, “Well, there are so many things better than a stick that can go-” he shut his mouth when a bowl bounced off his forehead.

“When did everybody become so...raunchy?” Yamcha wanted to know. He’d had a dirty mind for years, ever since being unceremoniously dumped by Bulma for an imported alien hottie but to his knowledge none of the others shared that particular trait with him. 

“What’s raunchy about it? Like I said they are just stories our fans write to entertain themselves. It doesn’t hurt anything that they entertain us too,” Goku returned, “It’s not like we _ actually do _ any of those things they write about.”

Vegeta looked around the table and smirked in a way that was distinctly suggestive, narrowing his midnight eyes. Half turning in his seat, he moved like a snake until he was pressed up against his former rivals side and nuzzled Goku’s neck with the tip of his nose, his sable coloured tail unwinding from his narrow waist to rest on Goku’s opposite shoulder. Goku didn’t seem bothered by this in the least, not making the slightest move to distance himself from the man. 

“Kakarot, we could go off right now and remedy that oversight,” Vegeta murmured against the side of the tall Saiyan’s neck. Even Trunks and Goten went still, watching. Goku appeared to be considering, his own tail flicking the air behind him until it came down to rest on Vegeta’s shoulder.

“What am I seeing right now?” Yamcha gurgled like he’d forgotten how to speak properly. Even 18’s smooth forehead wrinkled in some unnameable emotion. Bulma was a statue. 

“Okay,” Goku agreed finally, looking down at Vegeta, “but only if we can take Piccolo. I am  _ dying _ to find out what he’s hiding under all that fabric.”

Gohan fell over backwards, Krillin sprayed dark beer all over the table in front of him having thought a good stiff drink might bring reality back into focus and being very wrong. 

Vegeta could feel his friend shaking in his arms and knew it was very different reasons than the other people at the table would assume. Goku ran his tail over the low neckline of Vegeta’s sparring gi, feeling the same barely contained shaking that ran through his own body. 

They tried with all their formidable alien will power to hold back and explosively lost that fight in mere seconds. Piccolo, being possessed of by far the keenest eyesight among them, simply shook his head a breath before they both broke, muttering, “Incorrigible.” 

The way they held onto one another went from being sexually charged to the point of pain to a mutual effort to keep from joining Gohan on the ground as they laughed themselves sick.

Vegeta tried to wipe the tears out his eyes with the tip of his tail, wanting to see his wife clearly. There were no words he knew of to describe the expression of her face but he really would have liked one.

“You guys are  _ so _ easy!” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try explaining slash fiction to ChiChi and watch your brain implode. It's just unapologetic smut after that with tenderness mixed in and I am sorry for nothing. After 30 something years of marriage Goku and ChiChi deserve this. Bon Appetit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mess has only been up for about an hour and two wonderful humans left kudos for me. I thank you, it really means the world to me that you took the time...I hope you find it enjoyable and I will post Chapter 4 sometime to day if you are still interested. Stay safe.

Later…

The house was quiet, all the inhabitants having retired to their respective chambers for the night. 

“What did you really think was going to happen if you showed them the fic, Krillin? I think the response you got was the best you could’ve hoped for,” 18 said from where she lay on the couch in their bedroom flipping through TV channels at an inhuman rate of speed. “You’re probably lucky Vegeta didn’t try to break you in half because I don’t think I could hold him back long enough for you to get away anymore.”

Krillin shook his round head, bemused. “I don’t know what I expected but it was not that,” he said, “I was just looking for a little entertainment. Sometimes the apocalypse gets boring.” He lifted his wifes feet and slid unto the cushion underneath them, making firm little circles on the delicate soles in a way he knew she liked. “Why haven’t you ever said anything about it to me if you knew?” he asked.

18 closed her eyes to enjoy what he was doing, “Where do you think I got the idea for the swing?”

...

Across the wide hallway Goku was going about the rather complicated task of trying to explain to his own wife what had happened in the garden. ChiChi seemed not to be able to wrap her head around the idea that complete strangers would take the liberty of making up stories about  **_her_ ** husband that usually involved him having violent sex with the Prince. Goku assured her over and over that the two of them had never done anything of the sort but ChiChi seemed obsessed with the fact that Goku couldn’t give her an example of one he’d read where he was enthusiastically mounting his own wife instead of another man. 

“I don’t know Chi,” Goku told her honestly, “The fans just seem to like it when it’s the two of us the most. But if it makes you feel any better, there are alot of them where it’s Vegeta and Piccolo instead of me, ‘Geta is very popular. Or a slew of them where a bunch of us get together and-”

ChiChi cut him off, “It doesn’t make me feel any better!” she covered her blazing face, “We never do things like what you described in real life so what gives these people the right to make things like that up about you…”

Goku wasn’t as astonishingly stupid as most people gave him credit for. Vegeta wasn’t the only member of the group of pandemic hostages who had been changed by such close contact with the others. Neither the Prince nor Krillin or Yamcha were in the slightest too embarrassed to discuss their sex lives when the men were alone together. Between those male bonding sessions and the overly descriptive stylings they found in the fiction Goku had learned that there were many things he and his prim wife seemed to be missing out on. Things that had not occurred to him due to a lack of imagination and experience but that once discovered were very intriguing.

And the others had told him point blank not to tell ChiChi about the lemon so prevalent in the fan fics. Listening to her now and watching the way she kept her face either covered or turned away he realized what her core issue was with the situation. ChiChi was jealous. And for some reason that he didn’t try to unravel that really pleased the big Saiyan.

Goku took advantage of the fact that his tiny wife could not see him and channeled his inner Vegeta. Without making a hint of sound he slipped out of his orange gi and went to stand in front of her in all his muscled, naked glory. Goku was rather intimidating in size when he was dressed and that effect was amplified when he was not, so he took a step back. He didn’t want to frighten her and he wasn’t at all sure that ChiChi had ever seen him fully nude in the light since he’d grown to his full size. 

“Chi, look at me,” he implored, his voice low and soft. This was something new to him and he found the prospect of being looked at and admired the way his friends said their own wives did exhilarating. Afraid to have his hopes dashed though, he sounded slightly less confident that his usual self assured self. In the back of his mind was the slimy feeling fear that she might just be disgusted with him and that her revulsion might be the reason that during the very not frequent times that they were intimate she insisted that they be under covers and the room be dark. This fear was strong enough that he had actually confessed it to his friends, seeking advice. 

As with most athletes, the fighters weren’t in the least self conscious when it came to seeing each other. Gi’s frequently got shredded and they often took to the hot pools after an intense spar to soak out the soreness left behind by their training. Being bare assed in front of them was of no concern at all. This was different though and even after all five of his over masculine friends had confidently and supportively assured him that he was a miraculous specimen of the male anatomy, Goku still felt the heat of a blush across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. But Goku was anything but a coward. 

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he tried again, even more softly this time. “ChiChi. Look at me.”

Chi opened her eyes behind the screen of her hands, lowering them by millimeters. She took a moment to try and decipher the look on her husband’s face when it came into view. He was pink, which was adorably attractive at the same time as being appealing. His large, jet black eyes were wide and steady on her face, waiting for something. Goku’s lips were parted just enough that could see the tip of his tongue pressed against even white teeth. 

_ Handsome. Always So Handsome.  _

ChiChi lowered her hands all the way and froze solid. Goku stayed perfectly still, letting her look at him and would for as long as she wanted. He watched her gaze roam carefully over him and the Saiyan could almost  _ feel _ her like a breeze on his skin. It made him stiffen and when her eyes dropped to the part of him that reached for her she made a sound that made Goku stop breathing altogether. 

_ She doesn’t sound disgusted… _

Being brought up as she had been, ChiChi had no basis with which to judge what seeing her tall, perfectly sculpted husband did to her body. She was hot enough to die of fever and yet goose bumps pebbled her skin. It was hard to get air to fill her lungs. Inside, there was a pool of heat that spread to places that had only been tickled before and the urge to put her hands on him was overwhelming.

“Goku...oh,” she whispered without realizing she’d said his name.

It took a great deal of finely honed will power to stay still but Goku didn’t let himself so much as twitch his tail. “Do I... “ he rethought that sentence and started again, his voice much deeper than his normally light tone. “Am I sexy to you?” If he was going to go for it, he was going all in.

ChiChi blushed even more furiously but she didn’t look away and she didn’t retreat. Spending so much time with the other women in the house had opened her eyes, the way spending time with his sparring mates had for her husband. Bulma and 18 were very open about their exploits with their warrior husbands and even Panchi wasn’t shy about joining the conversations they had, sometimes much to Bulma’s chagrin. Only Videl was reticent about sharing personal details and Bulma had commented that it was only because the young woman didn’t want to talk about that kind of thing in front of her mother-in-law. It made Chi wonder what they talked about when she wasn’t around. And listening to them talk so comfortably, when all she did was listen, in half humiliated silence had given her an idea of what  _ didn’t _ happen when she was alone with Goku. 

On her own ChiChi would never have initiated anything as bold as this but having him standing before her, vulnerable and uncertain, pushed her the little bit she needed to say, “You are  _ beautiful.” _

Goku let out the breath he’d been holding, shivering at the way she said it. “If I come closer will it frighten you?” he asked quietly. 

ChiChi met his eyes, realizing how careful of her this powerful warrior was being of his timid wife. She was frightened, she acknowledged it in her mind, but not of him. She shook her head.

When he moved the muscles under his carmel skin rippled the way only a body trained to be under the utter control of its owner could, everything in perfect sync. He stopped just short of touching her knees, his swollen need pointing at her chest. Goku watched her intently, aware of the slightest change in her posture and body language. When her hands moved in a sudden and almost invisible gesture toward him, he saw it. It made his chest hurt.

“You can touch me, ChiChi.”

His wife took a long, hitched breath, her face so flushed that she seemed to be on fire but she looked up at his face, mouth open as she panted shallowly. “I don’t...know what to do,” ChiChi admitted painfully. She suddenly hated her inexperience and the blunt truth behind that confession. 

Goku’s eyes were soft. Understanding and patient. He moved very slowly, reaching out to touch her face with just his fingertips, his thumb brushing lightly over her hot cheek, “You can do or not do whatever you want. I’m  _ your _ husband.”

She didn’t move for a long time, letting herself get used to the sight before she ventured to do anything else. In her mind ChiChi was sorting through the snapshots of conversation she’d collected from her friends. When she’d first heard Bulma and 18 discussing the various merits of performing a certain incredibly intimate act and how much their respective partners enjoyed it, ChiChi had privately doubted it as truth, unable to imagine why any woman would even want to do something like that. But in this moment, with Goku so close to her, so delicious right down to his scent, she no longer had any trouble believing the other two. 

He stayed still, except for his long dark chocolate coloured tail swishing restlessly behind him, waiting. His wife settled her small hands on his hips, touching the curves of his obliques with her thumbs. Just that almost innocent caress sent a wracking shock through Goku and he bit the end of his tongue with the effort to keep silent, so what she did next nearly killed him.

ChiChi decided not to think for once, not to let her over active mind get in the way of what her body was screaming for. Before she could stop herself the small woman leaned forward and kissed the very tip of the turgid flesh straining so hard to get to her. 

“ **_FUCK!!!”_ ** Goku cried out, loud enough to shake the walls and he exploded in golden light quite unintentionally. The force of the transformation blew ChiChi’s long hair back away from her face. Still resting her hands on his hips she looked up into his wide, aqua eyes with sudden fear in hers. 

“Goku? I’m sorry! It’s not supposed to hurt-” ChiChi stammered miserably. He stopped her almost before the words came out, both strong hands on her head. When he felt her start to pull away, Goku mastered his form and dropped to his knees. ChiChi had no time to react before he pressed his lips against hers, a Saiyan purr rumbling in his chest. ChiChi gasped against his mouth and Goku, feeling her lips part, licked them.

It was a testament to his power over himself that stopped him from going straight to blue as the taste of himself on her lips registered. He kissed her, letting his instincts show him how until they were both breathless. ChiChi had wrapped her arms around his neck and slid off the bed and into his lap before they broke apart to breathe. 

The two of them simply gazed at each other for long moments, no thoughts at all running through their minds. Without taking his eyes off his wife, Goku slipped his hand into the neckline of her white night trail. He followed the line of her collar bones to the center of her chest and then down. The lush rise of her breast drew him like a moth to a candle flame. When his soft touch found her nipple, ChiChi shuddered and his name caught in her throat. Encouraged, Goku pulled the fabric out of his way, baring her. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he said with his mouth on the skin of her naked shoulder. ChiChi was strung like a bow string, shaking with silent want. Her husband moved over her with tender attention, laying small kisses as he went. Happily, he rubbed his face back and forth over the perky mound of feminine flesh until he felt the upright nipple with his mouth. His wife’s hands blindly tangled in his hair, urging him closer. He took the little nub in his mouth and experimentally suckled as gently as possible. 

“Goku…” ChiChi breathed raggedly. She had breast fed both of her sons, which was a very pleasant experience in itself and a million light years away from the feeling her Saiyan gave her when he sucked just a little harder. He moved to the other side, going back a forth to give equal attention to both her small but delectable breasts. 

Like ChiChi, Goku had paid close attention to the other men when they traded techniques and came up with bedroom battle plans, freely giving and taking ideas. Without stopping what he was doing he ran a hand up the inside of ChChi’s thigh where it was spread over his lap. Her hands contracted into fists in his hair when he found the apex of her body, covered only in a thin layer of cotton. The fabric was damp.

“Tell me how it feels,” he hummed without taking his mouth away. ChiChi didn’t have to say anything. The way that she spread her legs wider and pushed her hips forward was enough. Taking a page from his fellow Saiyan, Goku grasped the narrow strip that held the woman’s panties on and used a controlled amount of his ki to burn it in the protection of his grip on both sides, nudging what was left out of the way so he could cup his hand over her most private of places. 

“Touch me, Chi...I need you to touch me. Please,” he said brokenly, so hard that it hurt. His plea brought her back to herself enough to understand the words. If her husband felt anything like the raging desire scorching her, he was in agony. For the first time in her life, ChiChi felt no hesitation. She slid her hands down over his neck and shoulders, over the hills of strength comprising his chest and further. She found the part of him that stood up, curving slightly towards his abdomen and wrapped her hands around it. He bit out a sound that she wanted to hear again. ChiChi moved her double handed hold on him up to the tip and then down to the base, ripping an even more primal sound out of the man.

Goku thought he just might come in her hands if she continued to stroke him that way but his mind drew away from such a fast finish. He liked the way she felt, nestled so well in the palm of his hand. He  _ loved _ the way she felt when he flexed his hand, his thumb parting the petals and finding incredibly wet and appealing flesh there to explore. Her whole body jumped, then pressed harder into his hand. It was gratifying.

With his fingers, Goku found a particularly sensitive part of her that he was prompted to play with more extensively by a direct command from ChiChi. Several things went through his head at once. There was a place (had to be where he was touching her) that according to Vegeta and Yamcha would make a woman feel something along the lines of what he did when he came. They told him that the best way to bring this blessed event to fruition was with one’s mouth and that once accomplished the woman in question would do almost anything to have that feeling given to her again. Vegeta, in particular, had expressed how enjoyable it could be to give such pleasure, making your woman writhe in your hands. Also, Goku was aware of the fact that he was far too close to his own release, never having been touched like that before, to hold back if it continued. He let go of the nipple he was nursing and wrapped his free arm around ChiChi, standing up all in one fluid motion. 

“Trust me?” he asked, his face pressed against the curve of her shoulder and neck. He scented her as only an alien could, finding the smell of her arousal mouth watering. He hadn’t taken his right hand away from the place he was teasing with his fingertips, so when she didn’t answer right away he changed the position of his hand and pushed upwards. The tight, warm little opening to her body gave way and let him extend a questing finger inside her. 

Some kind of words poured out of ChiChi that were in no language Goku had ever heard, her legs locking around his waist like a steel trap slamming shut. Standing with his feet braced apart, the Saiyan pulled back and then pushed his hand upwards again, spreading his wife open as wide as he dared. 

It felt so good and so foreign; ChiChi wriggled around in his embrace, not exactly knowing what she sought but knowing she needed something. This had an effect on Goku. His throbbing erection was caught in between their bodies and her constant motion was doing nothing to take the edge off for him. 

Reluctantly, he laid his wife down on the bed, taking his slicked hand away and making her cry out for him in dismay. Goku took the bottom of the night trail in both hands and pulled hard, forcing the material to come off so he could throw it aside and leave her as bare to his eyes as he was to hers.

Suddenly modest, ChiChi made to cover herself with both arms. Goku instantly knelt on the mattress over her and took her thin wrists in his hands, diligently but steadily prying her arms away. He pinned them to the bed on either side of her head, his face very close to hers.

“Please don’t. I want to see you,” he said seriously and the soothing sound of his voice calmed her. Dipping down, Goku kissed her again, this time being in a position that allowed him to rub the hard curve of his manhood against the place that made her arch up for more contact.

_ This isn’t helping! She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me. _

The big man lifted his head and let go of ChiChi’s wrists to sit back on his heels, breathing harshly and struggling to control himself. He gazed down at her nestled in the thickness of the down comforters, black tresses spread out like a fan in the pillows. His tail whipped around him, fast and prehensile, to secure his penis to his flat, cut stomach. He took in the details of the female body underneath him, still nubile and smooth after two babies and nearly thirty years of marriage. Her face pink at the cheeks and her mouth swollen from his kissing.

“So finely made, Chi,” he said, almost as if he were talking to himself, but he met her eyes a moment later with such a burning look that ChiChi drew in her breath sharply, another rush of wetness seeping from deep within her. He ran both the palms of his hands down her sides and then over her thighs, “A porcelain angel, set with the most flawless obsidian,” he brushed the backs of his fingers over the silken triangle of her her mons, “and the most delicate coral.” He rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger, smiling when she tossed her head and lifted her hips off the bed in an effort to get to him.

“Will you trust me?” he asked again, leaning out over her again and lowering himself so his torso pressed down on top of her slightly. ChiChi wrapped her arms and legs around him, ready. But that wasn’t what he was asking of her. Not yet.

“I want to do something-well something special that we haven’t done before. It’ll be strange to you, but I think it will feel good.  _ Very good.” _

Trepidation crept up on ChiChi again. Her natural physical reserve starting to infect her mind, “What are you going to do?”

Goku smiled warmly and ChiChi realized that it didn’t matter. He would never do anything to hurt her and she did trust him. 

He saw the acceptance in her glimmering black eyes. It was a gift. He drew his hand down over her eyes, closing them, “Just feel me now.”

ChiChi resisted the urge to try and keep her legs together when she found them being pulled apart by the ankles, her hands clutching the thick bed covering as her husband settled his large body between them. Delightful kisses moved over her chest and belly, the thick shock of her husband’s hair tickling her skin. ChiChi relaxed under this treatment, enjoying the tender caresses in their newness.

Goku spent a long time tending to her in this way, wanting her good and ready to let go of her control when he reached his ultimate goal. When he thought she was ready, he took a moment to look up at her face and a very wicked expression crossed over his.

He gave no warning. With his strong right arm he reached up to spread his hand on her chest and he pressed down to hold her still. The other hand spread her wide open so he could freely take his first long, loving taste of the sweet lust that wet her. If it hadn’t been for the restraining hand on her chest, ChiChi would have shot right off the bed at the lightning strike that tore through her. 

He’d had the presence of mind to pin her legs down under his arms which prevented her from closing her legs and he didn’t stop what he was doing. He licked her again, lingering over the little button that beat in time with her hammering heart, sucking. He could feel her straining under his upraised hand, twisting, or trying to, against his immovable solidity. When he turned his head slightly to run his tongue around the inside of her parted lips, ChiChi pulled a pillow from under her head and screamed into it. 

ChiChi’s mind was lost in the sensations her husband was so willingly giving her from between her legs. So much so that she didn’t have enough of it left to think about exactly what he was doing and thus feel any kind of shyness. It was so shockingly intense, she didn’t think at all. Her entire form was a single point and that point was all heat and sweet, concentrated pleasure. 

She was unaware of it entirely when the hand holding her disappeared; very aware of it when she felt the pressure of one of its component parts making slow rings around the gleaming opening just under Goku’s chin. 

“Ah... **Yes** !” she cried out arching her back, the muffling pillow flying to parts unknown. Goku pressed inside her tight well as far as he could, helped by the fact that she was fairly dripping with slick wetness. He pumped his hand carefully, wary of how tight she was around just one long finger. Underneath his heavy body his cock throbbed insistently, fighting the hold his powerful tail had on it. He rolled his hips against the bed, making it worse. He had no choice but to pull his legs up under himself to lift his pelvis away from the stimulation if he were to have any chance at holding back until he finished what he’d started. 

ChiChi put her hands on his head, guiding him to where she wanted to be licked and suckled. Inspired by this brazen little woman he’d never known was hiding in his wife, Goku added a second finger to the first. The purring coming from deep in his broad chest growing louder in answer to hearing his name repeated like a mantra. He thrust a little harder and when ChiChi bowed right up off the bed completely did it harder still. 

ChiChi only knew one thing at that point. If he stopped she would die and she would die if he didn’t. She had felt pleasure before when she and Goku were intimate but  **_NOTHING_ ** like what he was forcing through her with his mouth and his hands. Something was building inside her, expanding until every nerve in her was ready to explode. 

Goku could feel it too, the way she began to clench tighter around his fingers. He pushed into her until he could go no deeper and sealed his mouth to the center of her pleasure, sucking while he flicked the end of his tongue with inhuman speed. ChiChi shattered. Her slender body rolled up until she was almost wrapped around his head, quaking violently and very loudly with the spasms of a pure and true orgasm. Goku kept on, refusing to release her until she fell back, limp as a noodle on the bed. But he didn’t stop, switching instead to a far more soothing touch to help her come down from the suffocating heights he had taken her to. 

When she finally stopped shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, he rose and climbed up to look down into her face. She had never looked as beautiful to him as she did at that moment. He kissed her, just a brush of his lips. When those onyx eyes opened, he smiled like a cat to see the shine of emotion making them gleam. 

“Goku…”

“I am going to  _ really _ enjoy training to perfect that technique,” he said with more than a hint of the wickedness he’d displayed before he started. 

She held his face between her palms, “It can’t get better than that. How did you know how to do that?”

“You are very expressive, Chi. Not hard to follow you when you let me know what you want. And I’m Son Goku, I always get better with training. Can’t think of a better battlefield, really.”

...

A few doors down the hall Trunks looked up at Goten from where he was draped over the edge of the bed. They both wore big, shit-eating grins. “Finally!” they both said at the same time and burst into approving laughter.

...

Once ChiChi had regained control of herself, she sat up and after pushing the wealth of her hair out of her face studied her husband closely. He looked absurdly pleased with himself, but there was strain in the clear depths of his eyes. She leaned toward him, her long, loose hair swinging forward with the motion. It landed in Goku’s lap, making him yelp when it touched the tortured flesh still trapped against his belly.

Seeing the source of his discomfort, ChiChi pushed him onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows and waited to see what she would do.

“Will you like it if I do to you what you did to me?” she asked, very deliberately prying his tail away to free him. He let go and wrapped his tail around her wrist, pulling her hand to himself. ChiChi wet her lips, coming close with every intention of kissing him down there again.

“You don’t have to do that,” he answered, thinking that the way she would have to do that would be a far different experience than he’d had kissing her scented softness. He bit out a pained cry at the feeling of her small hands taking hold of him, his head falling back. He’d never been hard for so long in his life. 

ChiChi didn’t bother waiting for permission, his initial response to just a kiss to the dark pink tip was enough. She held him upright and took the end into her mouth, licking away the clear drop that had gathered there. He tasted like a wild storm at sea.

Goku moaned, his hands rolling into fists where they rested on the bed. “Please do that again,” he whispered in anguish. Chi pressed her closed lips to the tip of her husband’s finely sculpted erection, letting the pressure part them so he slid into her mouth slowly while she applied her tongue to the underside. She remembered every little detail shared by her friends when they compared notes and the knowledge served her well now that she had the courage to put it to practice. 

The Saiyan lifted his head to watch his wife. His body nearly betrayed him the instant he saw his length disappearing into her cupid’s bow of a mouth. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to breathe but the sensation of her tongue moving over and around him was so intense that it hitched in his throat and he began to purr again, much louder this time. The longer he let her experiment the more she enjoyed the way he responded to her ministrations. 

Listening to her friends, she had thought that doing such a thing would be demeaning and if she was honest rather gross. Now, with him captive to her mercy, ChiChi finally understood that the opposite was true on both counts. Goku made no move to control anything she did. He kept his hands pressed tightly against his sides, even after he gave up and fell flat on his back. At least until ChiChi bobbed her head, increasing the suction that was rapidly robbing Goku of reason. 

He took her face in his hands and lifted her off of him, shooting backward so that he was on his hands and knees, his head hanging down so far that his hair rested on the coverlet, while his back heaved with the effort to breathe. 

“You have to stop, Chi, I can’t take anymore or I’ll…” he didn’t finish the sentence, but the thrashing of his tail said it for him, she knew what happened when it moved like that. He heard rustling and lifted his head.

“Come to me,” ChiChi called softly, arms out to him. She had laid back on the pillows and opened her legs in invitation, more than ready for him to finally share his body with her in the fullest of ways. 

It was the most natural thing in the world. He fit himself between thighs the colour of white jade, exploring her mouth again before he set himself in place and letting his aching cock sink into the welcoming embrace of his wife up to the hilt.

_ Finally. _

Goku stayed still until he was certain that ChiChi had grown accustomed to his size, kissing her deeply and thoroughly. When he did move it was with care and close attention; he was large and he didn’t want to hurt her. ChiChi had other ideas however. She wrapped around him like an eel and writhed under him, grinding her clit against him to increase the friction. He went up on his arms and moved in tandem with her, pleasure urging him to go faster. Making love to a Saiyan was very different from sex with a human male. Goku would never get tired, his incredible stamina would never give out, nor would the strength in his arms. He could move in ways impossible for an Earthling and was flexible enough to hit any pressure point that he thought would make his wife call out his name. She was already so turned on that it didn’t take much before she was biting down on his shoulder in paroxysms of a soul stealing orgasm. Unprepared for what it would feel like for him to be so deeply buried within her when she came, Goku lost it.

He pumped his hips like pistons, slamming into her harder than he ever had before. It only took moments for the world to narrow to nothing but heart stopping pleasure and he arched back, spilling his seed into ChiChi, his cock contacting with each rich spasm. 

Then he did collapse. Aware that he was too heavy with some still functioning part of his pheromone saturated brain, he bent his arms at the elbows to take his weight and still allow him to stay inside his wife because he wasn’t ready to be parted from her yet. 

“Chi. Are you alright? Hurt?” he asked with what was left of his voice, concerned that she was quiet. Her chest heaved under his and he shot back up. She was crying.

“Oh, Kami, what have I done!” he cried, moving to get away from her before he cause her more pain, “I’m so sorry, I lost control and-”

ChiChi didn’t let him go anywhere. If anything she tightened her hold on the big man, rubbing her face against the base of his throat, one hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

“I didn’t know it could be like that, Goku,” she said as clearly as she could, “I love you so much.” She laid back and her smile was like the rising sun after a very long night. 

“I didn’t hurt you? I’m so much bigger than you are and you’re so fragile, Chi,” he asked, cautiously allowing her to pull him back down to her. He buried his own face in her hair, inhaling her scent until it filled him as surely as he’d just filled her with his own essence.

“The only way you hurt me now would be to tell you don’t want to train with me, **_right_** **_now,_** to get even better at **_that_**.”

He laughed softly, knowing he would only need a few minutes to fulfill that request. 

  
  
  


**Chapter 4**


	4. Chapter 4

No one who had slept in the east wing of the Brief’s home expected to see either Goku or ChiChi the next morning. Yamcha, Piccolo, Trunks and Goten all exchanged knowing looks when they filtered into the dining room. Given the amount of noise that had emanated from that wing the night before, they would be surprised if it hadn’t woken up all the inhabitants of the western and northern wings as well. Maybe even the bots where they slumbered in their charging pods.

Without ChiChi to coordinate the operation the starving lot ended up fending for themselves. This summed up to mean it was a motley collection of Instant Lunch, cereal, hasty sandwiches and leftovers until Panchi came down. 

By then the men had left for morning training, taking the children with them. The two oldest boys wanted Piccolo to teach them the technique he used to focus his ki into two fingers for precision destruction. Gohan wanted to spend time with his sassy little daughter and she wouldn’t be parted from Marron. Krillin wouldn’t let them go without him. 

Privately, Gohan thought they were a strange pair. Pan was a tomboy from roots to roof. Even as young as she was she showed natural talent as a ki user and an intense interest in learning to fight. Marron was the other side of the coin, all girly fluff and exactly zero interest in martial arts of any kind. Though she was younger than Pan, Gohan still thought at 5 she was old enough to know she wasn’t going to be a princess when she grew up. 

Krillin followed Son Gohan carrying his blonde munchkin on his back like a living carry-all, grinning to listen to her scream with little kid delight. Having a daughter who thought you were a superhero was awesome. He looked up ahead. Pan was only 6 ½ and she could fly already, albeit more slowly than if she’d been a full blood or half blood, but it was still quite a feat. Gohan was the picture of a proud father and he deserved to be. Still, Krillin thought, Marron will always think I am her hero because she won’t be a ki user and she won’t fly, which means she will never be put into a situation where she’ll have to fight and that’s what I want for her. He wanted her to stay his little princess until the day finally came that he slipped out of the human condition. As though she knew what he was thinking, the little girl squeezed his fingers, holding her steady on his back and screamed out a laugh that carried through the cool morning air for miles.

Yamcha dropped out of the sky onto the training pitch and looked around for someone free to spar. Krillin would be with Gohan and the teenagers were off someplace with Piccolo. Goku was..well, indisposed. That left- _ shit!  _ He caught sight of a streak of deepest blue and flashes of snow white out the corner of his eye and panicked.

_ Oh fuck me running! _

A blink and ¼ later he was flat on his back ten feet from where he’d been, swearing fluently. He heard the unmistakably deep laughter of a certain Saiyan Prince and rolled over, shutting his mouth because he knew it would make Vegeta laugh harder. 

“Do you have to be a bag of dick tips every time you see me?” he demanded sarcastically, beating at his bright orange gi to get the grass off himself. Cursing at Vegeta was chancy but Yamcha was, at least, mostly certain the guy wasn’t going to kill him. 

Vegeta looked genuinely offended, walking over to help. A lot harder than was necessary. “I’m not an asshole  _ all  _ the time. I’m nice when the Woman is around,” he replied with all the sincerity of a serial killer.

“Not ambush attacking when your wife’s watching doesn’t count as nice, fuck nut!” Yamcha argued pointlessly. He was more than aware that his anger and insults rolled off the Saiyan like water rolled off of an arrogant, self absorbed, royal duck. “I still don’t get why you hate me after all these years. You won.”

Vegeta smiled unpleasantly and Yamcha loathed the man even more because the slender alien was no less stunning even with the expression he reserved exclusively for the ‘Beta Male’. 

“I don’t hate you; what would be the point? Tormenting you just amuses me,” Vegeta retorted, offhanded. He clapped his pristine white gloves together with a crisp slap, falling easily into his opening stance, “Ready to have a go?”

Yamcha backed away, knowing that was a bad idea and doing it anyway, “I’m not fighting you, crazy train!”

Vegeta straightened up, one leather clad finger against his lips, “Alright, we’ll make it fair. You can use any attack you want, in any way that occurs to you. I won’t use ki, my arms or my legs. Deal?”

Yamcha barked out a bitter laugh, shaking his long hair out down his back. “The last time you said that you body slammed my from 300 feet up and I ended up in another Saiyan made crater. Fuck you,” he retorted roughly, still backing away.

“I won’t fly.”

“You’ve still got a head and that’s the worst part of your tiny body,” Yamcha spit and gained a grain of satisfaction. He had 7 inches on the Prince. All the other Saiyans he’d ever met were taller than most humans, some of them by a long way and built thick and robust. By comparison Vegeta was positively dainty. Nevermind that he could throw anyone (with the possible exception of Goku) through a planet with one hand, then blow said planet up with a flick of the other and never break so much as a sweat. Yamcha still got a kick out of throwing it in his face. Anger drove the baseball player to make another bad decision. He got in Vegeta’s face, forcing the Prince to look up at him, forgetting for a minute the physical danger of being within arm’s length.

Yamcha stared down at the Prince. His pointed face was serene, his winged brows relaxed. He couldn’t smell anything so he pointed a finger at the shorter man and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Have you started drinking or something?”

“No,” Vegeta shook his head, “But that’s a good idea. I think I’ll do that when I get back. It tastes like poison but Bulma always gets so adventurous when she raids that secret stash her father thinks she doesn’t know about and I want to try…” His voice trailed off and he tilted his head upward, eyes open wide. Yamcha followed his gaze. Something small, fast and very high tore through the sky above them. 

Vegeta turned to look in the direction the projectile had come from and there were two jet trails following at quite a distance, moving at least mach two. He couldn’t see them, shrouded as they were in a pair of vapor cones but he didn’t wait for confirmation. The ground crushed several feet under his boots as the diminutive warrior did two things simultaneously. Power exploded from him with the force of a bomb, changing him from his base form to the dark blue of his Evolved form and he launched himself into the air. Vegeta punched both his fists out in front of him, cutting through the air with a deafening sonic boom. He generated a protective ki field around his body when he broke the sound barrier and poured more power into his speed. Within moments he was invisible to the naked eye and still he went faster. Even with the stobing field surrounding him the friction of the air tore at his skin, not that it stopped him.

Vegeta could see the thing rocketing ahead of him and knew he only had seconds to catch up. One last flash and he was under the screaming child. He pulled her out of the air and flush up against his chest, curling himself around her like a seashell just feet before his back slammed into one of the millions of random plateaus that seemed to be the main topographical feature of their planet at 2686 MPR. 

Vegeta and his very breakable payload vanished into the cloud of vaporized rock only to shoot through the mess and into another and then a third, finally stopping halfway through it due to a combination of hard stone resistance and his ability to direct his ki to slow himself. Later, he would have to remember to wonder why the creator of their world always seemed to put those stupid plateaus in chains so that no matter what direction you were going when you hit one if you went through it there were always more to run into on the other side.

He didn’t try to unwrap himself while they were still more or less encased in stone. Instead, he built up a charge and discharged it in almost every direction from the surface of his skin. The rest of the flat topped mountain exploded in what looked like an atomic detonation. The Prince shot straight up to get the child out of the rock dust so she could breathe.

When they were clear, Vegeta carefully straightened out, holding Pan tightly to his chest. He looked down at her, tilting them both backward for a moment so he could shake the sad remains of yet another constantly in-the-way mountain out of his hair. She was rolled up like a pill bug, arms crossed over her head, her little face pressed to his heart.

“Pan,” he crooned in the most soothing voice he could come up with, scanning the sky quickly for the rest of her family. They were coming at top speed but had a ways to go. Two, three minutes, by his estimation. He called to her again, feeling her shaking hard enough rattle her teeth. He could feel Gohan’s erratic ki, the young man was near to having a heart attack. Krillin was in danger of going bald for real.

“I couldn’t stop! I couldn’t make it stop!” the poor kid started stuttering, repeating it out of shock. Vegeta bit his bottom lip, at a loss for how to deal with the situation. Catching a super sonic kid with a runaway ki surge and a few stubborn and inconveniently placed flat mountains he could deal with readily enough. A hysterical little girl, who chose that moment to throw skinny arms around his neck and squeeze hard to choke even that thick column of muscle made him want to run for it. 

“Your dad is coming Pan. Look around, you’re safe now. You’re okay,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. The little girls tended to avoid the dark Prince, he seemed very fierce and they were afraid to come too close to him. Vegeta fully approved of this mind set for the most part and did nothing whatsoever to dissuade them from the notion but now…

She did as he said, gulping air like a little fish. They were up quite high and when she saw this she started screaming again, somehow finding the power to cut off his air supply with her twiggy, tiny arms. Her little sneakers dug into his stomach and it felt like she was trying to climb him. Immediately, Vegeta descended, contracting his arms to hold her still before she made it up over his face. 

Relief flooded through the man when the ground touched his feet, though he’d had to fly a bit further away to find ground not strewn with massive amounts of rubble. He bent double to try and put the spider monkey down only to find that she clung even more tenaciously to him, lifting her feet so as not to touch the ground. 

“Don’t let me go, ‘Geta!” she shrieked right into the canal of his large, very sensitive ear, “What if it comes back?!?” 

_ How can she be this small, this strong  _ **_AND_ ** _ this loud? _

Through the ringing in his head he stood back up and held her close, not knowing what else to do. His son wouldn’t have reacted this way. And he was taken aback a little. Besides Kakarot, no one called him by that nickname. Thoughts for a later date.

“Pan, we’re on the ground…”

The little girl released her death grip on his throat but she didn’t put her feet down. 

“Did you catch me? I couldn’t make it stop,” she said, looking up into his face with all the sincerity of a terrified child.

Vegeta considered. “What do you mean ‘you couldn’t make it stop’?” 

Pan tucked her little head, clad in an out of place bandana, back under his chin. Vegeta felt tiny arms wrap around his body. 

“I was flying and then something came up inside me, strong, and then… 

then I was flying so fast,” she said against the fabric of his dark blue gi, “I couldn’t stop it…”

Gohan slammed into the ground, running as soon as his feet touched dirt. He had the shine of tears in his eyes, scooping his daughter out of Vegeta’s grasp to give her a cuddle that only parents can know. 

My precious!” he cried. Holding his daughter more tightly then he held his own soul, Gohan cried into her hair. Those tiny arms came up to wrap around her fathers neck and Vegeta waited; if she put as much of her strength into as before, Gohan would be out in 5-4-3-2…

Pan let go. She twisted in her dad’s arms towards the Saiyan Prince, holding out her little hand. 

“He caught me and then blew up a mountain! I was gonna die but ‘Geta caught me!” she exclaimed with all the exultation of someone who had looked death in the face and given it the finger. Vegeta felt something like pride rise inside his chest.

Krillin landed a few feet away, his daughter clinging to him. Gohan let Pan down and the two little girls ran towards each other, locking their arms in the other's hair to make certain that they were both still actually alive.

Vegeta turned away and was trying to get control of himself, staying in his blue form was useless, so he let it go, his hair going black as well as his eyes. He stood straight and rolled his shoulders, trying to relax his body. The amount of power he’d had to pour into himself to gain the speed he’d needed to catch the little girl and then to try and slow had taken a toll. He was tired. The impact of several very large, very hard mountains seemed to be imprinted on his back. He wanted to eat something yummy and then crawl unto his bed, maybe wrap himself around his Woman and go to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunken card games and ridiculousness. Thank you to every one who left me kudos, It makes life so much better.

Uproar in the house. The near miss of Pan was apparently the only thing anyone was going to talk about. Vegeta had heard the sound of the people inside talking about it and decided to avoid the entire situation. There was an udon spot in the city he knew did the curbside pick up thing, so he alighted just long enough to grab the little plastic card that served as money from his chambers before taking off again to get something to eat. 

“What exactly happened?” Videl demanded with all the wrath of a mother who hadn’t seen the event herself. ChiChi had Pan in her arms, soothing the child while staring daggers at her son. He looked at the floor, afraid to catch the eyes of the two women who had the power to rule his misery.

It was Krillin who took pity on the poor young man, “Don’t be so harsh, Videl. It was weird. Gohan was teaching Pan to fly faster, the way they do and then she flashed. Nobody but Vegeta can do that, so we didn’t see it coming. She went so fast...it took us a moment to even figure out what direction she was going.”

Videl glanced at her daughter, still tucked into her grandmother’s protection and then went to stand directly in front of her husband.

“What would have happened to her if the Prince hadn’t caught her?” she asked, hands on her hips. Her face was a thunderstorm.

Gohan didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They all knew the answer. Those stupid flat topped mountains were always in the way and the little girl wasn’t yet big enough to obliterate one without probably dying in the process. Instead of trying to defend himself, Gohan held out his arms and was given forgiveness when his wife came and let him wrap his arms around her waist. He pressed his face against her stomach, taking comfort from the fact that she let him touch her at all. Videl put her own arms around him. She understood that being part Saiyan meant there were always going to be things about her precious child that they didn’t know yet and that accidents like what had just happened would happen again. 

From the strong arms of her Grandmother, Pan piped up, “I’m gonna ask ‘Geta to teach me to fly.”

There were looks around the room but no one tried to dissuade the child. 

“Where the hell is Vegeta anyway?” Bulma said from her place at the breakfast bar. 

…

The man in question was, at that moment, standing outside the restaurant with several take-away boxes in his gloved hands. If the world were still normal he would have been able to simply sit inside the place and eat to his content but now…

Vegeta flew home with no intention of encountering the others. He didn’t want to deal with them, he just wanted to eat. His usual spot on the roof of the Capsule Corp Compound was as deserted as ever, so he dropped down and spread out his feast with his usual OCD precision. He was halfway through his second helping of yakitori when the door behind him opened quietly. He tensed up for a moment until a sniff of the air told him that it was his wife and that she was alone. She had that damned app on her tablet that qued the motion sensor she didn’t know he knew she’d put on the roof to tell her when he went there. Vegeta left it alone because he also knew she would just come up with something more insidious to track him with if he did something to disable it and he didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to find out she was trying to put one of her devices in the muscle of his arm.

She sat down next to her Prince, taking one of the sticks of delicious duck bbq for good measure. “So?” she said with an open ended question in her tone. 

“So, what?” Vegeta replied around a mouthful of sacrificial water fowl, “The girl is fine.”

Bulma took the stick away from her husband and sat on top of his outstretched thighs, holding his pointed face in her hands. “Gohan said that he’d never seen anyone fly that fast. Yamcha couldn’t even see you,” Bulma said, her face close enough to kiss, “You saved her.”

Vegeta put his hands, gloveless to eat, on the dip of her waist, “Yeah, well, mountains are hard and that kid was going way too fast. Someone is going to have to teach her what to do when her ki gets away from her like that or she’ll get hurt. It was actually impressive.”

Bulma leaned forward and kissed him, biting down a little on his lower lip. The amount of love she felt for this man was pushing its way against the inside of her ribcage in a way that almost hurt. Vegeta moved, his legs drew up to bring her closer to him and his thick arms contracted so she was pressed against his chest. She slid her hands  
around him and felt him wince slightly when she touched his back. Bulma let go and looked at him critically. 

“Are you hurt?”

Vegeta shrugged, disappointed at the fact that he was no longer kissing his wife, “I’ll heal. It’s nothing.”

Bulma made the I-don’t-believe-you-at all face and twisted them both so she could push the neck of his gi down to see his skin. Vegeta’s back was a mosaic of red and purple, bruised from the impact with the rock. 

“Vegeta, come to the med bay-” she started, only to be silenced by being kissed again. When he had thoroughly stolen her breath the Saiyan nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Mountains are hard and so am I, so I’ll be on top,” he said, the purring sound starting in his chest. The woman didn’t have time to do much more than sigh before she was on her back and her Prince was over her, impatiently pushing her clothes out of his way. To help, she dragged the top of his gi down over his wide shoulders and down his body until it too was out of the way of the sudden and raging hard-on he was intent on doing something about.

“I want inside you,” he growled into the skin of her neck, as if that were not already evident. Bulma kicked her clothes off and opened for him, crying out when he lifted himself up on his hands and thrust into her. Making love to Vegeta was akin to waging war with a winning army, he was dominant to the point of pain when he was high in his heat but she welcomed it. He knew exactly what places to hit when he moved, the strokes hard and perfect. She felt the smooth, hard length within her, stretching her, pleasing her. Vegeta was a very considerate lover, always. He would not allow himself to finish until she did, it was a point of pride to the Saiyan Prince. He got off on the way she looked when she came for him. He sat up, holding her legs open with his arms, using his thumb to make tiny circles on her clit. Bulma held onto his thighs and let him do what he wanted, not bothering to try and keep quiet. 

Vegeta watched her, the flush of her face and the tilt of her head as she gave herself up to him spurring him on just as much as the tight sheath that he loved so much. There had been a time when he considered her a vulgar woman but that was before he truly knew what a gift her free way of existing was. She never denied him when he wanted her, no matter where or when it was; she took pleasure in everything he did without ever hiding behind false modesty. 

He changed the angle of his hips and was rewarded by her blue eyes going wide. “Oh YES! There!” his little, human wife cried, fingers digging into the skin of his thighs. He could feel how close she was, the inside of her body tightening around him. From long experience Vegeta knew what would give the most pleasure. He bent forward, one hand slamming into the concrete of the rooftop while the other continued to stimulate the small center of her pleasure. He drove himself in as deeply as he could, feeling the mouth of her womb kiss the tip of his cock and she came. Hard. Her hands came up to fist in his hair, her body bowing up with the spasms of orgasm, his name breaking in her throat. 

She was still trembling underneath him when Vegeta let go and filled her with enough milky fluid to overflow and get all over both of them. His need fulfilled, he rolled them both over, bruises be damned, and held her against himself so he could stay inside her without crushing her on the hard surface of the roof. To Vegeta, staying within his wife until he’d gone completely soft was a bonding experience and being Saiyan, that never happened immediately. It felt good, she was hot and creamy after the finish, tight around him. Bulma relaxed on his chest, kissing his neck, his sensitive ears and then his mouth. He licked her tongue and for the 1000th time thanked Kami for giving him such a wonderful mate.

An hour, a finished meal and a shared shower later, the pair walked back into the common room of the compound. Vegeta had a casual arm around his wife, fingers splayed on her hip, when a cannonball of small child almost knocked him over. Vegeta’s free arm came up automatically to catch the girl.

Those twiggy arms wrapped around the column of his neck and she planted an angel kiss on his cheek. Bulma stepped away, a huge, cheesy grin on her face as she looked at the nonplussed expression on Vegeta’s face. He took two paces backward, as though that would take him out of reach of the child clinging to him like moss on the northern side of a tree. 

“You’re gonna teach me to fly, Uncle ‘Geta? When?” Pan enthused energetically and the Prince heard soft laughter in the room. “How ‘bout right now?” she went on. 

He looked over her to the other people in the room, hoping for help that he knew wasn't coming. Even her father stood there, watching, like it wasn’t his problem. 

“Bulma?” he said, trying not to let the child claw her way any higher up. 

Bulma flicked a hand in the air and blew him a kiss. “What else is there to do in the coronapocalyse? You might as well- Uncle ‘Geta”

He shrank a little, but the bright eyes of the child in front of him wouldn’t let him go. 

Uncle ‘Geta? When did that happen?

“C’mon, Vegeta. I’ll help,” Kakarot ventured, “How can you say no to that face?”

Vegeta looked back at the shining face of the part Saiyan child who seemed to be more Saiyan than most of the ones with more alien genes and knew he couldn’t. 

Bending over again, he set her down,”Fine. Be on the pitch at first light.”

Pan cooed her happiness, the rest of the gathering tried to see if there was something stuck in their ears. Vegeta just turned around, grabbed his mate by the wrist and strode out of the room. 

“Wow, she’s going to get it,” Goku said jovially, making the others laugh while Pan slapped her hands together in happiness. 

“Is this a good idea?” Videl asked, watching the shapely backside of the Prince disappear back into the hallway leading to the stairs. Gohan looked at his spaz of a daughter and lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender, “I don’t think she’ll take anything else,” he said in a tone that meant he had given up, “I couldn’t catch her…”

Videl put her arms around Gohan, “She’s alright. You couldn’t have seen that coming.” She ran her hand down over his hair to massage the back of his neck. 

“She’s right, son,” Goku interjected, “Nobody is faster than Vegeta. When he’s done piling Bulma we should go get them. I still want to play that drinking game we planned and it’ll be no fun unless we get to see drunk ‘Geta take off his clothes!”

The rest of the people in the room just stared at him, but no one could come up with a reason why that was a bad idea.

…

Vegeta lifted his head off the pillow and looked toward the door. Someone obnoxious was knocking and he wanted it to stop. His little wife was draped over his chest like a blanket, naked and warm against his skin. 

“Go away!”

20 minutes later, with a lot of continuous knocking and many swear words in the past, Vegeta and Bulma appeared in the common room. The girls had been put to bed with a movie presided over by their Grandmother. Goten and Trunks were veritable vibrations at being allowed to join grown-ups for once, 18 and Krillin sat close and quiet. Yamcha sat on the edge of his seat beside Piccolo, who had checked out 15 minutes before. Goku held ChiChi hard next to his side, sliding his hand up and down the silk covering her thigh. When Vegeta walked into the room, he grinned. Even after a shower, the scent the Saiyan was giving off was evident to his heightened sense of smell. 

“How long will it be Vegeta? You have what-” Goku took a deep breath, “A few days at best left?”

Vegeta let go of his mate and slapped Kakarot across the face with his tail. The sable fur didn’t hurt but got his point across, “Shut it, stupid!” the Prince yelled and then looked around the room, “Where’s Gohan?”

Goku pointed at the ceiling, “He went up. Didn’t want to play. I intend to whomp you, so get ready.”

Vegeta took him at his word, sitting on the couch and drawing his wife up against his side. He was dressed in normal, human clothes but that didn’t make him look any less formidable. The black pants hugged every curve of his lower body and the T-shirt he wore matched it. When Goku stood up to answer the challenge the women in the room marveled at how the two men were built. 

Krillin wasn’t bothered that his wife looked at them, he knew she loved him just as he was. Under her outer shell of aloof isolation, 18 was a snuggle bunny with a weird fetish for very short men. Piccolo had no opinion of this either way, though it did amuse him to see the way Yamcha’s cheeks burned. For all that the scarred man was gorgeous, he still felt himself to be lower on the totem pole than either of the Saiyans. For their own measure, Goku and Vegeta didn’t give it a thought. They didn’t even notice they were wearing the same outfit. ChiChi only had eyes for her own husband, while she could appreciate Vegeta’s fully male beauty,the recent events with her mate still took her breath away. Looking between them, she caught Bulma’s eye and winked. Neither could wait until the night wound down and they could get their mates alone again. 

“What’s the game?” Vegeta asked looking down at the pile of cards on the table. Goku picked them up and handed them to his wife to shuffle. He began to count out the chips, making sure everyone got the same amount. 

“We’re going to play Tycoon.”

Vegeta grinned. He and his wife were particularly good at that game, playing it often by themselves. Goten groaned, knowing this and Trunks considered giving up before-hand and just going to play some video games instead. 

However the youngest among them didn’t leave. They were being included in the group of adults for the first time and at 17 and 18 respectively they were grateful. There was more than just the acceptance, there was booze and that was something they were put upon to get on their own.

While ChiChi shuffled the deck, Bulma poured out drinks for everyone. Trunks looked at Goten when his mother placed the drinks in front of them, wondering if it was some sort of joke. Looking like he was waiting for a hit to the jaw, Goten picked his up and took a sip. When nothing happened other than Krillin holding his glass up in a toast, Trunks did the same, receiving cheers from 18. Incredulous, they hastily drained their glasses. Both boys opened their eyes wide when Trunks’ mother refilled them with a small smile, warning them not to get pissed too fast or their fathers would wipe the floor with them at cards.

ChiChi dealt, telling the lot that whoever ended up as beggar would have to lose an item of clothing as penance. And also do a double shot. No one disagreed and the game started. Goku played impulsively, ChiChi and Bulma were pragmatic, Goten and Trunks did as well as they could without any real skill, Vegeta was aggressive and 18 with her husband played with cold logic. Piccolo won. His gameplay being the wait-for-someone-to-fuck-up strategy. 

Goten ended up as beggar. His best friend laughed as the teenager gingerly removed one shoe, his face as red as a beet for no reason at all. Until Krillin sent in his two cents.

“Take it off, baby!” the super short man quipped, clapping. 18 blinked and then joined in. A moment later all the adults were catcalling and though it didn’t seem possible, Goten’s face went even redder. He set the show down and then stared daggers at Trunks when he picked it up and swung it over his head, gyrating like an idiot.

“Sexy!” the lavender haired kid declared, throwing the shoe over his shoulder and striking a pose a figure skater would have envied. 

The gallery went wild and Goten flipped his peer the finger, kicked him and fell on the table laughing. 

Several rounds and many drinks later scantily dressed people tried to use their cards to cover parts of their bodies that no longer had the protection of fabric. ChiChi in particular had nothing left but her tunic and panties, a problem that was becoming evident for Goku. Half way through the current round, the tall Saiyan threw his cards down and stood up, taking the hand his wife held and dropping it on the table.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Vegeta yelled from behind what he knew was a winning hand. Goku scooped his woman out of her seat, finished his last shot and leveled Vegeta with a look that didn’t give room for argument. 

“I’m going to fuck my wife,” he announced, rather drunkenly, to the general skock of the rest of the room.

No one said anything as he proceeded to stomp out of the common room and up the stairs. Trunks and Goten looked at eachother, lifted their drinks and screamed a loud “Davai!”

It made the rest of them laugh. The game went on until Piccolo bowed out, wrapped only in his cape. After him Yamcha quit, carrying his clothes and wearing nothing at all. 18 whistled and gave him a thumbs up. Bulma poured more shots, being more than generous with the portions. Everyone was going to be hung over, including her son, so why not?

“Play hard or go home,” she said, somewhat slurred and grabbed Vegeta by the chin to tilt his face up so she could messily kiss him. He responded in kind, holding the back of her blue head until he was satisfied. 

First Trunks and then a moment later Goten lifted their heads and both of them took deep breaths. “Oh no…”Trunks muttered leaning back. Krillin looked at the boys, questioning on his face. 

“That’s what's wrong with him?” Goten asked, his expression smoothing out as though he finally understood. Vegeta stood up and in the same way that Goku had, plucked his wife out of her chair, holding her against his chest.

“Good night folks,” Bulma said in a sloppy voice, wrapping her arms around his neck. Vegeta walked away with his mate and vanished up the stairs leading to the west wing of the compound. 

Krillin and 18 looked at the boys, bemused. Trunks didn’t look upset but Goten was blushing again. 

“What is going on?” 18 deadpanned, “What;s wrong with them?”

Trunks looked at the place where his father had disappeared and then picked up his drink. He was tipped but having his fathers resistance to liquor, not nearly as soused as the humans. He laughed lightly at the red tint on Goten’s face and flicked a hand upward to indicate the upper floors. 

“They are going into heat,” he said, “My dad about now, by the scent, Goku might have a few days left,” he explained. When 18 and Krillin looked like they had no idea what he was talking about, Trunks continued. “ It’s a Saiyan thing. Like our mating season.”

Goten, still red in the face, leaned over and pressed his nose against Trunks’ neck. He inhaled and drew back with wide eyes. 

“I can smell it on you too.”

Trunks took a breath but his mild expression didn’t change. “I don’t feel it and I’m too young,” he replied, watching Goten carefully. 

18 made a slashing motion with her right hand, “Why don’t you two just give up and admit it. It’s not like anyone here is going to have a problem with it. I mean, I’m a cyborg and married, happily, to short and bald over here,” she ran a fond hand over Krillin’s head. “Everyone is okay with that, so they’ll all be okay with you two.”

“What are you talking about?” Krillin asked, staring at his wife. She turned slightly and gave him the jaundiced eye. 

“How can you people not see what’s right in front of you?” 18 said with the tone of an exasperated woman. 

Trunks glanced at Goten and then both of them glued their eyes to the floor. Krillin watched the rose colour creep over the faces of both boys and got it, finally. 

“It’s not what you think, Krillin,” Trunks started, putting a warm hand on Goten’s leg under that table to show solidarity. His best friend’s head came up suddenly, black eyes blazing. He was tired of trying to hide what he felt. Even when he was hiding it from himself.

“Yeah, okay...So what?! I...like guys and I…”He looked at Trunks, “I want to be with him” he couldn’t believe the words were coming out his mouth but saying them even so. 

“‘Ten?” Trunks said softly. The fact that 18 and Krillin were in the room was forgotten. Trunks’ lavender tail rose up behind him and pitched forward to catch hold of the end of Goten’s dark brown appendage, curling around it. He reached out and put his hand on his friend’s face, cupping his chin. 

Quietly, 18 stood up and took hold of Krillin’s hand. He rose and followed her out of the room and up the stairs to their chambers in the west wing, looking back to see Goten touch Trunks’ face before the two boys were lost to sight by the stairwell wall. 

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Krillin said after they had shut the door of the bedroom behind them. 18 snorted in a very feminine way and herself backward on the big bed, wriggling out of her remaining clothes with alacrity. Once she was down to nothing but a bra and her panties she beckoned to her husband.

“Come here,” she said in her usual way of not taking any argument, “I want you.” Krillin didn’t need any more of a prompt. He shed what clothes he had left and went to let his wife do whatever she wanted with him. It wasn't a bad decision.


End file.
